This year, the Eastlyn Imperial Capital was destined to be extraordinarily lively—a year no one would ever forget.
On the tenth day of Serena Feng's injury, Northlyn—estranged from Eastlyn for twenty years—sent its Second Prince, Prince Quentin Northlyn, to the Eastlyn Empire to celebrate the Emperor's birthday.
Northlyn lies in the coldest region of the Nine Provinces Continent, perpetually snowbound and harsh, where almost nothing grows. Eastlyn, Southern Lyn, and Lyndaria have never considered conquering such a place.
Even if one seized Northlyn, the land would expand, but its people—barely able to feed themselves, let alone pay taxes—would require subsidies from the victor's treasury. In time, that burden would drag any nation down.
Northlyn's people know their security is temporary. Ever since their founding, they've kept their borders closed, focusing inward—only in recent years have they begun limited trade with the other three kingdoms and the Nine Cities.
Prince Quentin's visit marks Northlyn's first true diplomatic engagement in its history. The Emperor, delighted by the news, treats Princess Yara and Su Wan with rare warmth, privately savoring the sense that Eastlyn now stands above the other three kingdoms, poised to become the greatest power on the Nine Provinces Continent.
On the surface, Eastlyn's national strength far outstrips the other three kingdoms. But those who understand the truth know that, while Eastlyn is powerful, its authority is dangerously scattered; imperial power is nowhere near as centralized as its rivals. The Emperor has spent years fighting to reclaim control.
The arrival of Northlyn's Second Prince gave the Emperor immense face, so he held a grand banquet in his honor. Of course, such state affairs had nothing to do with Serena Feng—she remained at home, nursing her wounds.
With the Emperor's birthday approaching, Serena couldn't openly build cenotaphs for her parents at this time—those preparations would have to be done in secret, only after the festivities ended could she proceed openly.
This banquet for Northlyn's Second Prince was held at the highest standard—even grander than the one for Lyndaria's Crown Prince Terrence. Ninth Royal Uncle, the Crown Prince, and the Empress all attended, and even the Empress herself appeared.
Ninth Royal Uncle raised his jade cup, watching the Empress's arrogant, self-satisfied expression with a cold sneer—soon, that woman would have nothing left to smile about.
Prince Quentin Northlyn, tall and powerfully built, looked every inch the warrior, but he was no mere brute. Seeing the Emperor so cordial, Quentin played along, flattering the Emperor at every turn.
Host and guest were all smiles; the two nations seemed friendly—at least, that was how it looked to everyone present. Eastlyn's officials beamed with pride, finding Prince Quentin especially agreeable.
After all, Southern Lyn and Lyndaria's envoys were always provoking Eastlyn, but Northlyn's prince was nothing but deferential—making everyone feel thoroughly pleased.
Just as the banquet was about to end, Prince Quentin suddenly rose, presenting ten pigeon-egg-sized sea pearls, a rare sea hawk, and a thousand-year-old snow-lily.
The pearls and sea hawk were rare enough, but they paled beside the snow-lily. When it appeared, even the Emperor was stunned: "Is that a snow-lily?"
The snow-lily grows only on Northlyn's highest snowy peaks—nowhere else on the Nine Provinces Continent has it. Northlyn's closed borders mean outsiders never see it; people know the name, but almost no one has ever laid eyes on it.
The previous dynasty once had dozens of snow-lilies, but with its fall, all such treasures vanished from the imperial coffers.
"Your Majesty has a keen eye—this is Northlyn's national flower, the snow-lily, growing atop snowy mountains, untouched by the slightest dust."
"Your Majesty, the snow-lily in my hand is the finest Northlyn has ever harvested. I obtained this thousand-year snow-lily by chance while hunting in the snow-mountains."
"In Northlyn, we have a custom: when a man wishes to marry, he must personally seek out a betrothal gift for his chosen bride. The more precious the gift, the deeper his feelings. My mother, the Queen, instructed me to bring this thousand-year snow-lily to propose marriage to the woman I admire." Prince Quentin was no fool; from the moment he left Northlyn, he was determined to extract the greatest benefit from Eastlyn.
Eastlyn was rich, its people well-fed—everything Northlyn lacked. Quentin hoped this mission would win Eastlyn's support, so his people could finally have enough to eat.
They racked their brains but couldn't think of a way to make the Eastlyn Emperor help them. With Northlyn so close to Eastlyn, and Eastlyn constantly at war with Southern Lyn, there was no way Eastlyn would let Northlyn grow strong.
At last, one advisor suggested a marriage alliance. Northlyn didn't want jewels or dowries—just seeds and craftsmen.
After much deliberation, Quentin decided this was the best plan. Careful inquiries revealed that the Empress had a beloved daughter, whose brother was likely the next Emperor. That only strengthened Quentin's resolve to seek a marriage alliance.
"To propose to the woman you admire? Prince Quentin has someone in his heart already?" The Emperor leaned back, his stern face softening into a smile, all warmth and friendliness.
If Serena Feng had witnessed this, she would have said: "Fake!"
Prince Quentin flushed, playing the lovestruck youth. "Your Majesty, I have heard that your Princess Serenity Anping is gentle, virtuous, and accomplished in every refined art. I, Quentin, wish to seek her hand in marriage."
With that, he presented the thousand-year snow-lily with both hands.
"No—" The Empress's heart dropped as she instantly refused. There was no way she'd let her daughter marry off to distant Northlyn, let alone to a rough warrior like him.
She'd planned to use Serenity Anping to win over powerful ministers—there was no way she'd let her daughter be sent off to Northlyn.
The Emperor shot her a glare, and the Empress swallowed all her unfinished protests.
The Emperor was fascinated by the thousand-year snow-lily, but even more interested in a marriage alliance—and what Eastlyn could gain from it.
Northlyn's warhorses might not rival the Bloodsweat Chargers or the Blackcloud Stallion, but they were plentiful. With a marriage alliance, Eastlyn could quickly upgrade its cavalry and use Northlyn's strength to consolidate imperial power.
Likewise, Northlyn would gain Eastlyn’s support, though its national power was no match for Eastlyn.
In an instant, the Emperor weighed all the pros and cons, but did not agree outright. Instead, he said, "Prince Quentin, your intentions are admirable. Serenity is my cherished daughter—I cannot bear to send her so far away."
[Irrelevant passage: This chapter isn’t over ^.^, please click next page to continue reading!]
Mostly, a single snow-lily was far too little—the Emperor wanted to bargain for more.
As for Prince Quentin's supposed 'beloved,' not a single person present believed it.
He hadn't even met her—how could he possibly be 'smitten'?
Prince Quentin gave repeated assurances: he would cherish Princess Serenity Anping, and promised that if he married her, he would bring her back to Eastlyn every year to visit her family.
In Northlyn, women are far fewer than men—when a family has a daughter, a hundred suitors line up. Women are considered incredibly precious. Prince Quentin swore that if he married Princess Serenity, he would treasure her above all, never letting her suffer the slightest grievance.
His words moved everyone present—he seemed the very picture of a devoted suitor. Only Ninth Royal Uncle watched with a cold sneer.
Women truly are rare in Northlyn—so rare that ordinary men can't find wives, and sometimes several brothers must share one.
Women are so precious in Northlyn because they're needed to bear children. Their only responsibility is to give birth and raise the next generation.
If Princess Serenity Anping went to Northlyn and couldn't have children, she'd be worthless.
Of course, Ninth Royal Uncle would never say any of this aloud. Before the banquet ended, he slipped away, and late that night, once again climbed into Serena Feng's boudoir—so familiar with the route, he went straight to her bed and began massaging her injuries.
Serena didn't resist or struggle. For ten days, Ninth Royal Uncle had come wind or rain, ignoring everything she said and acting entirely on his own, indifferent to her wishes.
Habit is a terrifying thing—Serena had gotten used to Ninth Royal Uncle's embrace, to the faint bamboo scent that lingered on him.
As usual, Nolan checked Serena's wounds, made sure she was healing well, and then told her about Prince Quentin's proposal to marry Princess Serenity Anping.
He hoped Serena would cheer up a little—she'd been so gloomy these past few days.
"Why is Northlyn's Second Prince so eager to marry Princess Serenity Anping? I smell a plot." Serena might be clueless about politics, but even she sensed something was off.
"What kind of plot?" Nolan nodded approvingly, encouraging Serena to go on.
Of course, he didn’t expect Serena to guess that Northlyn’s marriage proposal was his own handiwork—she was probably thinking of something else.
Serena was always candid with Ninth Royal Uncle, so she voiced her doubts: "Southern Lyn, Lyndaria, and Northlyn all seeking marriage alliances with Eastlyn at the same time—it's just too unusual. Outsiders might think Eastlyn is so strong the three kingdoms don't dare challenge it, but I suspect they're secretly joining forces."
"A soldier who doesn't want to be a general isn't a good soldier; an emperor who doesn't want to rule the world isn't a good emperor. Eastlyn's strength surpasses the three kingdoms, making it their common enemy. Now they're all proposing marriage alliances—not to strengthen ties, but to carve up Eastlyn for themselves. No matter how strong Eastlyn is, it can't stand against all three united."
In the Warring States era, the one who laughed last wasn’t the strongest Qi, but the weakest Qin.
The tall poppy gets cut down—when many powers vie for supremacy, the strongest always becomes everyone's target. That's exactly Eastlyn's predicament now.
"Not bad, you do have a brain." Nolan nodded in satisfaction—finally, someone was clear-headed.
Eastlyn's officials could see Su Wan and Princess Yara scheming against Serena, but couldn't see that Southern Lyn, Lyndaria, and Northlyn were actually joining forces against Eastlyn itself.
A few flattering words, a marriage alliance with Eastlyn—and suddenly the Eastlyn people were arrogant enough to think themselves the strongest in all Nine Provinces.
How pitiful! How lamentable!
Serena closed her eyes, too lazy even to roll them. "Eastlyn's survival is at stake, Ninth Royal Uncle—shouldn't you be doing your duty as a true man?"
Just go already. Stop bothering me.
Lately, Serena found herself annoyed every time she saw Ninth Royal Uncle. The man had woven a web around her heart, slowly pulling her back in, undoing all her hard-won resolve.
If this kept up, she'd soften—she'd fall for him even deeper!